


all the magic i have known

by Mr_Phich



Series: everyone needs a chance to be small [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bed-Wetting, Clint Feels, Clint Needs a Hug, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy!Steve, Diapers, Families of Choice, Friendship, Insecurity, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Non-Sexual Age Play, Secrets, Self-Acceptance, Team as Family, Wetting, little!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7340539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Phich/pseuds/Mr_Phich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint learns that it’s okay for people to see him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Sorry for straying from the regular posting schedule. I will be out of town this Friday and won't be able to post, and I didn't want to leave you guys hanging!  
> This is one of my favorite stories so far, so I hope you enjoy it! As always thanks for reading, kudoing, and commenting! (I've been a little lax on replying to comments. Once life settles down again I'll get back to all of you!)

_ Sandra’s seen a leprechaun, _

_ Eddie touched a troll, _

_ Laurie danced with witches once, _

_ Charlie found some goblin’s gold,  _

_ Donald heard a mermaid sing, _

_ Susy spied an elf, _

_ But all the magic I have known _

_ I’ve had to make myself _

 

_ -Shel Silverstein _

  
  
  
  


Clint wasn’t ready for the team to know, really. But he had been trying to do the right thing by Bucky, who was his brother and his friend, and by Steve, who was Daddy. (Clint didn’t always have the words to describe everything that meant). 

But it went okay, and none of the things he’d dreaded had come to pass ( _ Tony kicking him out of the tower, Bruce looking at him with disgusted pity, Thor saying he’d never seen such a weak excuse for a soldier, Tasha refusing to ever speak to him again).  _ And in a weird way, it had been kinda nice. Everyone knowing. Not everyone seeing. But feeling like he didn’t have to hide. (And they had made a really awesome spaceship). Steve had taken care of him, because he always did.

So he wasn’t dying to repeat it. Or at least, not right away. Because. Well, the team might change their minds. Why wouldn’t they? It was pretty weird. (Not for Bucky, ‘course, because Bucky had been tortured for seventy years and as long as he wasn’t catatonic or killing people Clint thought he was doing pretty fucking awesome). And he definitely didn’t want to talk about it. At all. Clint didn’t like to talk about it with Phil and Phil had known for years, now. Clint even had a hard time talking to Steve about it when he was big. 

So when Tony asked the next morning, at breakfast, “Hey, what didja do with the spaceship?” Clint sort of wanted to hide. 

“Uhm. Steve’s got it.” Clint said around a mouthful of bagel. (Breakfasts had suffered a lot since Bucky got back and Steve was gone all the time. Clint missed him.) 

“Why don’t you bring it down and we can see if we can improve it?” 

Clint just kinda stared. Why would Tony ask that? Was he teasing Clint? Clint knew it wasn’t cool and that his friends were just doin’ it because Steve asked them too, but did they have to be mean about it?

“Yes! That would be most excellent!” Thor boomed from over by the toaster.

Clint looked around, trying to suppress his horror at this entire encounter. But Phil wasn’t there and Natasha didn’t seem inclined to help (she probably hated him even more than before) and...and...Clint could feel himself start to panic and he  _ hadn’t peed before breakfast and _ …

“You aren’t supposed to talk to Clint about being little, remember?” Bruce said very evenly over his tea. 

“We aren’t!” Tony protested. “We’re just talking about the spaceship we built when…”

“He was little.” Bruce finished. And thank fucking god for Bruce, Clint thought, taking his bagel and running for the elevator. He didn’t need to stick around for this shit (and he really should go to the bathroom). 

Clint didn’t go to lunch that day, or dinner. Phil showed up after dinner, gave him a once over and hauled him up to Steve and Clint really regretted the day those two got on the same team (okay, not really, but did they have to gang up on him like this?) 

Steve made him sit down in the kitchen with Phil while he got Bucky settled with some games and Clint fucking hated conversations in the kitchen with Phil. They were always the most embarrassing conversations of his life. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, pouring them water. 

“Clint didn’t come to lunch or dinner with the team.” Phil said calmly, the fucking traitor. Steve looked disapprovingly down at Clint. 

“I ate!” He protested, but Steve was already getting food out of the fridge for him. Which, okay, Clint wasn’t gonna complain ‘cause Steve was a really good cook and it looked like he and Bucky had made dinosaur pizza, so okay. Clint would eat. You didn’t have to twist his arm. 

“Why didn’t you go?” Steve asked as he set the pizza down. 

Clint shrugged as he took a giant bite. Steve and Phil shot him identical looks. And really, they were the worst. 

“The team was askin’ me all these questions at breakfast and I didn’t wanna, kay?” Clint said around his mouthful. Phil made a slightly disgusted look (Clint always tried to pretend he had manners around Phil, cause he knew Phil liked that), but Steve was well used Clint’s terrible manners. And it was Steve’s fault really. Feeding him while he wanted to have a conversation. Should know better. 

“What kind of questions?” Steve also looked all concerned and protective which was yes. The team would learn to be mean to him.

“Bout my spaceship. They were teasin’ me.” Steve looked at him all serious for a moment. 

“Clint, I don’t think they were teasing you.”

“They were!” Clint insisted. 

“No. I think that they had fun last night and were trying to share that with you.”

Clint frowned. “Why would they have fun?”

Steve looked all sad and Clint hated that, he really did. But he always seemed to manage to say things that made Steve look that way. It was usually when Clint was saying somethin’ that made Steve realize how crap Clint’s life was. 

“You’re a lot of fun to be around, bud. Big  _ and  _ little.”

“Nuhuh.” Clint said around another bite of pizza. “Only you and Bucky like me when I’m little.”

Phil made a sort of silly noise, halfway between choking on his water and sneezing. Clint blinked at him. Phil of all people should know that. Phil really didn’t like little Clint.

“That’s not true.” Steve said softly. “The team just met you last night, but I can already tell they like you. And what about Phil?”

Clint frowned and reached for his juice. When had Steve put that there? Was that some sort of daddy magic, always knowing when Clint was thirsty?  “Phil wishes little Clint would go away.” 

“What?” Phil demanded, turning to look at Clint with wide eyes. “No I don’t! Clint, I love you!”

“You love big me,” Clint said to the table, playing with his pizza. 

“No- Oh, Clint. Is that what you thought all this time? I love  _ all  _ of you. Big Clint and little Clint and inbetween Clint.” Clint looked up at Phil, stunned by that. But Phil looked like he really meant it. His eyes were all wide and he was looking right at Clint and he wasn’t trying to pretend not to have feelings, like he sometimes did. “Just because I can’t be your… your Daddy or your caregiver, doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. And I’m glad you get this. I didn’t realize, at first, how much you needed it. But Steve has helped you in so many ways that I never could. So of course I love little Clint. I’m sorry you didn’t know that.”

Clint sat back to think about that. His thumb came up to his lips, but he didn’t want to suck it. He needed to think, thumb, give him a minute. If Phil could love little Clint… maybe the team hadn’t been meaning to be mean? Maybe they were just happy, like Daddy said?

“Oh.” He said. And, “I love you too, Phil.”

Phil smiled and gave him a big hug. Clint couldn’t remember getting a hug from Phil when he was little before. Not that he was really little, just sort of little. Phil smiled at him when he pulled back. Clint smiled back around his thumb, which, when had he put that in his mouth. He pulled it out and wiped it on his t-shirt, blushing a little. He still wasn’t use to Phil seeing him like this. It was kinda scary. Maybe last night had been scary too. 

“I’m going to leave you in the very capable hands of your Daddy, okay? We can talk some more tomorrow?” Clint nodded. That was nice of Phil, cause they usually watched their show on Thursdays and it was Phil’s day with big Clint like Friday was Daddy’s day with little Clint. 

Suddenly he was crying and Daddy was picking him up and then he definitely was little. 

“Oh, buddy, what’s a matter?” Daddy kinda rocked him and that was nice. Clint stuffed his thumb in his mouth. 

“Last night was scary.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Daddy agreed. “Bucky had a really hard time today too.” He had? That made Clint feel a little better, because at least it wasn’t just him but also sad because he didn’t like his brother to feel bad. He wanted Bucky to always feel good. “New things can be really tough. And it’s hard to let people see parts of you that you usually keep hidden. Can I tell you a secret?”

Clint nodded. He liked that Daddy trusted him enough to tell him secrets sometimes, even though he was little and not a very good SHIELD agent and couldn’t really read and sometimes forgot to do his laundry or brush his teeth. 

“It was scary for me too.”

“It was?” Clint asked, awed. He didn’t know daddies could get scared and especially not his Daddy, because his Daddy was so brave and the best Daddy in the world. He thought maybe he said some of that out loud because Daddy sort of laughed, in the way that meant he really loved Clint. Clint liked that laugh. 

“Yeah, to let them see me being a Daddy. What if they thought I was a bad Daddy?” 

“They couldn’t! You’re the best Daddy in the world. No one could ever think that! Not ever.”

Daddy smiled and hugged him tight, so that Clint was surrounded by Daddy on all sides. 

“Well no one could ever think that my wonderful lovebug was anything but perfect either.”

Clint only felt perfect when Daddy hugged him like that but that was okay because Daddy hugged him a lot. 

“Now, should we go play with Bucky for a little bit? I think he’s waiting for us.”

“Can you read to us?”

“I would love to.”

*

Clint woke up the next morning feeling a lot better. He was halfway between big and little, which sometimes happened when he slept. Daddy was shaking his shoulder, but he was being really quiet, which meant that Bucky wasn’t up yet.

“Daddy?” He mumbled around his thumb.

“Hey Clint. You gotta get up and be big, okay? You have a training session this morning.”

Oh, right. He took his thumb out of his mouth and wiped it off. Da- Steve helped him up to his feet. 

“You go shower and use the bathroom,” Steve directed. “I’ll get some workout clothes ready for you.”

Clint did as directed. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom that he realized he was only wearing a t-shirt and a wet diaper. Which. Ick. He ripped the garment off and tossed it in the trash, trying not to feel too bad because Steve always told him that he never should feel bad about that stuff, big or little. Clint still mostly felt bad about it though. He wasn’t like Bucky, who had brain damage to explain why it happened. He was just fucked up. 

The shower made him feel better and more himself (and a little less fucked up). Steve had left the clothes on the counter as promised and Clint dressed quickly. When he exited, Steve was there with a cup of coffee and a protein bar. 

“Running a tad late this morning, so head straight for the gym, okay?” Steve said. Clint nodded and hoped no one would ask why he’d bothered to shower before training. He took the proffered food items and a quick hug from Steve and took off for the elevator. 

By the time he made it to downstairs, the rest of the team was gathered.  _ Oops.  _

“Where’ve you been, birdbrain?” Tony asked over a cup of coffee. “Usually you’re down with Agent.” He gestured, and yeah Phil was there, talking quietly with Natasha. 

He thought about movie night. He thought about breakfast yesterday and what Phil and Steve had said and that Phil loved little him and Bucky, always waiting to play with him when he wanted, and Daddy who wanted everything for him. 

“Spent the night with Steve and Bucky.” He admitted quietly, shyly. 

“Oh,” Tony blinked. And then, “So did you get the spaceship?”

Clint laughed.

*

Cint wasn’t mad when Steve set up another whole-team with the littles event, actually, after that. Because he was starting to believe that maybe little him wasn’t something that needed to be hidden away in some deep dark hole somewhere. 

This time Steve set it up for Saturday morning. (Steve always did that, scheduled things right on top of each other so that Clint didn’t have time to overthink it. Steve was a lot more devious than anyone gave him credit for.) 

Clint  _ was  _ little when he got up that morning, cause he’d spent the night before with Bucky and Daddy and they’d helped Daddy make cookies and played tickle monster and hide and go seek and when he and Bucky were so tired they could hardly move, Daddy’d put them to bed. They hadn’t even got baths (Daddy had said in the morning). So he was little, but he sort of felt like it was going to be hard to stay little. 

But because Daddy was brilliant, he had an idea for that too. He woke Bucky and Clint up with cuddles (which was the best way to wake up) and then with tickles (which was almost as good). After he tickled them until they could hardly breathe, he asked, “So I was wondering if you guys might want to take a bath together? You could play with the toys and we could have lots of bubbles?”

At first, that felt really scary. Clint had only ever taken baths by himself. Sometimes, when Bucky was feeling bad, he sat in the bathroom with Daddy and Clint, but he had his clothes on. But Clint had seen Bucky naked, when Daddy changed him. But he wasn’t close then, usually. He was all the way on the other side of the bed. Or putting his clothes on. 

“You guys get to choose,” Daddy said, petting both their heads, which was gonna make Clint go straight back to sleep, silly Daddy, “But I think you guys would have a lot of fun. You both really love playing in the bath and you both really like playing with each other….”

Oh. Clint did love playing with Bucky and he loved baths. So maybe it would be fun. But, “I still wanna have by-myself baths sometimes, Daddy.”

“Oh, of course! This would be a sometimes thing, for special occasions.”

Daddy usually had really good special occasion ideas. Like ice cream and tv and presents. 

“Okay!” Daddy smiled at him. Clint looked over at Bucky. Bucky’s eyes were still sleepy and he was sucking on his paci, but he nodded. (Bucky usually agreed with him because Clint was the big brother and he was always right.)

“Those are my boys.”

Baths together was a really really good special occasion idea. Bucky and Clint got to splash each other and play boats and Bucky did a really good sea monster voice. When it was time to go, Bucky and Clint had just finished getting ready after their bath and Clint was definitely still little. Clever Daddy. 

Clint wasn’t as shy this time, but he still wanted Daddy to hold him. So did Bucky. Daddy never said no to carrying them, but this time he made each of them carry a bag. Clint made Bucky carry the bag where Daddy carried stuff for a change (it wasn’t a diaper bag because Clint didn’t wear diapers during the day and neither did Bucky, so) and Clint carried the toy bag.

They’re supposed to be going for brunch, which Daddy said was a fancy word for a late breakfast and Clint was very hungry. But as soon as the elevator doors opened, he forgot all about being hungry. 

There were balloons and banners and everybody was yelling surprise. Daddy made a surprised noise too and stepped backwards, into the elevator which was a good idea because Bucky started crying right away. Clint didn’t, because he was bigger, but Daddy was giving him a big cuddle too and if Clint sort of needed to wipe his eyes on Daddy’s t-shirt that was okay. Even big boys got startled. 

“Oh,” Pepper was saying, sounding kind of close, “Oh, we didn’t think. Steve I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Daddy said in the flustered way he sometimes says things when he doesn’t really mean them but he’s distracted because Bucky (or Clint) needed him. Right then, it was Bucky, who was still crying really loudly. Daddy was wiggling his arms, which Clint didn’t like, cause he needed Daddy to hold him, but then he was pulling out Bucky’s paci, so oh, that was okay. “He just doesn’t do so well with surprises. Or, uh, loud noise.”

“I am so sorry,” Pepper repeated. “Is there anything we can do?”

“Just give us a minute, alright? Just, uhm JARVIS could you close the doors for just a minute, I promise guys, just til I get them settled.” The doors to the elevator closed and then Daddy was rocking them back and forth and singing a song he sometimes sang, if they had nightmares. 

Once Bucky stopped crying so loud, Daddy started to talk, “It’s okay, buddy. Boys. It’s alright. That was quite a surprise, huh? Our friends are trying to do something nice for us by throwing us a party, but they didn’t know that a surprise would be so scary, huh? That’s because they’re still getting to know us. But I think when we go out there, we can ask them to be really quiet. We can eat some food, because I know both my boys are really hungry. Everything will look a bit better after some food.”

Daddy gave them a lot of time to calm down and lots of cuddles, which were nice. He checked their pull ups, which wasn’t so nice. He rubbed Clint’s back when Clint whined, and said, “Just checking cause you had such a scare. S’alright.”

It was harder to stay dry when you were scared, but Daddy had made them go potty before they came anyway, so Clint still thought it was pretty silly. Once Daddy was sure they were ready, they went back out to the party. This time, everyone was really quiet when they said hi and good morning. 

Clint hadn’t felt like talking, so he just waved. Daddy sat down with Bucky and Clint on his lap, like he had at movie night, and Sam said, “You weren’t joking about ending up this way a lot.”

Daddy laughed, which made Clint’s head bounce and he turned a little so he could see Bucky. Bucky was smiling a little bit as his head went up and down. When he saw Clint looking, he made a silly face. Clint made one back. 

“They really are the cutest little kids I have ever seen,” Pepper insisted. Clint blushed. He wasn’t cute and he wasn’t really a kid, so he knew she was just pretending. 

“I think so,” Daddy said, voice all rumbly. Daddy probably really did think Clint was the cutest ever, so that was okay. 

Daddy tucked his chin to look at them, “Alright boys, ready for some breakfast?”

“Can I fill up their cups for you, Steve?” Bruce asked. Bruce always had a nice voice, soft ,and fuzzy. It sounded fuzzier right then, so Clint looked over at him. Bruce was smiling. Bruce didn’t smile a lot. Maybe he was glad to see Daddy? Daddy was gone a lot, especially from the team. 

“That would be great,” Daddy said. “Milk in the purple cup,” That one was for Clint, “And apple juice in the pink one, thanks.” A moment later, Daddy offered him his cup. 

After a couple sips of milk, he felt ready to sit up and look at the table. There were even waffles!

“Waffles, Daddy!” Clint pointed, in case Daddy hadn’t seen. Daddy smiled into Clint’s hair. 

“Would you like some bud?”

“Yeah, three.” Clint said eagerly. 

Daddy put them on his plate and set them up just the way he liked them, with lots of berries and syrup. Clint  _ loved  _ waffles. He could hear Daddy talking to Bucky, but Clint was more focused on his waffles and what everyone else was doing. Bruce was eating oatmeal (gross) and Phil and Pepper had a bunch of fruit on their plates. Natasha and Tony were both eating pancakes (which were good, but not as good as waffles.) Clint sighed and made happy eating noises.

Phil smiled at him, “You enjoying those?” 

“Yuhuh! Waffles are the best!” Clint said around his mouthful. Phil blinked and sat back a little (as did Sam who was across from Clint). 

“Clint,” Daddy sighed, already reaching for Clint’s face with a napkin. “You need to finish chewing before you talk, remember?”

“We don’t do that at home!” Clint said, squirming away from Daddy’s napkin. Daddy sort of blushed and a couple people laughed. 

“I know, bud. But we talked last night about how when we eat with other people, we wait til we’re finished chewing.”

“Oh, yeah.” Clint did remember now. But he’d been distracted cause Daddy had made hippo buns and tomato soup. 

“Yeah,” Daddy said, voice kind of rumbly like it got when he was trying not to laugh. Clint grinned up at Daddy who bopped him on the nose with his napkin. Clint giggled. 

It didn’t take Clint long to finish his waffles, but Daddy and Bucky were still eating. But he really wanted to play. He wanted to see if Tony and Bruce would help with a pirate ship to go with the space ship. (Bucky had thought of it that morning in the bath and Clint really wanted to play pirates and astronauts.)

Daddy wiped his hands, which were sticky cause of the syrup, and said quietly, “It looks like Tony is done, you can ask him if he’d like to go play with you.” Clint peeked up at Tony. Tony was done eating, he was just talking to Bruce and drinking his coffee, but Clint felt a little too shy to ask. He wiggled. But Tony had liked playing last time. He’d even asked about the spaceship when Clint was big. 

“Tony?” He called. He couldn’t make his voice very loud, cause he felt kinda nervous.

Tony heard him though, and turned to him and said, “What’s up, kid?”

Clint kinda like that Tony called him kid like that, like he really was one. 

“Um, Bucky and I want a pirate ship to go with our spaceship so we can play astronauts and pirates. Um, would you help?”

“Well,” Tony drawled. Clint’s stomach got all knotty and he thought maybe he shouldn’t have eaten his waffles so fast, “I don’t know that much about pirate ships, so you’ll have to tell me what should be on it.”

Clint sat right up, “I know lots about pirate ships and Bucky knows even more than me!”

“Well alright then, I think we’ll be in good hands! Bruce, would you like to assist?” Tony said, standing up. 

Bruce smiled and stood up too. And then Thor stood up and boomed, “I should also like to take part!”

“Me too!” Sam said quickly, “I didn’t get to play last time.”

Clint nodded really quickly. They all wanted to play with him! When he looked around for his toys, Daddy was already handing them to him with a big smile. 

“C’mon Bucky!” Clint called, reaching for his brother.

Daddy stopped him though, “Bucky’s still eating his breakfast, lovebug. He’ll catch up in a couple minutes.”

“But we need him for pirate ship building!” Clint insisted. He couldn’t build a ship without Bucky - it had been Bucky’s idea. 

“You can ask him if he’s ready to play,” Daddy said pointedly. Oh yeah. He wasn’t supposed to drag his brother around all the time.

“Bucky? Play pirate ship?”

Bucky nodded (Bucky’s voice went away when there were a lot of people around or he was scared, but Clint knew what he was saying anyway.)

“Okay, then.” Daddy said, wiping Bucky’s hand and mouth. (Buck always sat still when Daddy did that, which Clint thought was silly. Who had time to get clean?) Clint bounced up and down, while he was waiting. Bucky took time getting up, because his body got confused sometimes. While Bucky did that, Daddy leaned in and pulled Clint close. He whispered in his ear. 

“Clint, do you need to potty before you play?” Clint blushed. He shook his head. Hard. Daddy frowned a little bit and asked, “Are you sure?”

Clint nodded, feeling like his face was as bright as a tomato. He wanted to play. 

“Come get me if you do,” Daddy insisted before letting him go. Clint grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him to the living room. Sometimes Daddy was the worst. 

Tony, Bruce, Thor and Sam were not the worst, at all. They helped Bucky and Clint build a really awesome pirate ship with little working canons and everything! And when Clint sometimes forgot that Bucky might be scared, Bruce and Thor always helped Bucky play, and that was nice, that Clint didn’t always have to remember. Soon Phil was there, and Daddy too. The girls didn’t seem to want to play pirateship, because they just sat on the couch and laughed. 

When they finished building the pirateship (they had used k’nex and legos and some play doh and some little bits of wire from Tony’s pockets) Tony announced, “Time to open presents!”

Presents! Clint’s mouth dropped open. He loved presents, but he’d only ever gotten them from Daddy (and sometimes from Phil and Tasha, but those were for big Clint which was different.)

“Why don’t you guys set that up,” Daddy suggested, getting to his feet. “Gonna give my boys a quick break.” Daddy helped Clint and Bucky up from the floor. He grabbed the bag and led them to the bathroom. And everyone was gonna know that Daddy was taking them to the bathroom. Clint didn’t want anyone to know that he needed help with that. His eyes started making tears and he tried to stop them, because if he got upset, people would just notice even more. 

But as soon as the door closed, he couldn’t help it anymore and he started crying.

“Oh, baby, what’s a matter?” Clint cried harder because he didn’t want anyone to think he was a baby, he wasn’t, he was big! He was a big boy and he didn’t need any help. “Shush. It’s alright, buddy. I don’t think anyone out there is thinking about this as hard as you are, okay. And you’ve got syrup all down your shirt so we can just change that and that’s all they’ll think we were doing, okay?”

Clint put his thumb in his mouth and yawned. Bucky yawned too. Daddy gathered them both up in a big giant bear hug, which made all the nervous feelings go right away. 

“Let’s just take a quick potty break, boys, and then we can go open presents, okay?”

Clint nodded. He did sorta have to pee. He let Bucky go first though, cause then he got more cuddles from Daddy. Once they’d both pottied and washed their hands and changed Clint’s dirty shirt and Daddy washed Clint’s face, they went back out. Someone had brought a big stack of presents and set them in the middle of the floor. Clint gaped. That was a lot of presents. 

Daddy put Bucky in his lap and Clint by his side. Clint wished they could both fit in his lap when Daddy sat on the floor. 

“Open mine first!” Tony insisted, handing Bucky and Clint a very big box (almost as tall as Daddy!). Bucky let Clint open it and inside there were giant tubes and pieces to connect them. 

“So you can make a spaceship that you fit inside,” Tony said, sitting back. He looked like the cat that got the cream, Clint thought, turning his wide eyes back into the box. 

“I think we should keep those here,” Daddy said. “I’m not sure I have room in my place.”

“But Daddy!” Clint whined. 

“That way you can play with them with your friends. Because I’m not bringing that whole thing down every time.” Clint pouted. Daddy was really strong, he should carry whatever Clint and Bucky wanted. But it would be more fun with Tony’s help. He sighed. 

“Okay. But can we build with it today?”

“We’ll see.” Daddy said. Clint was about to whine some more but then there was another box being handed to him (this time Bucky and he each got their own). These were from Pepper and inside there was a little set of figures. Clint’s were astronauts, which was awesome (even though he already had a lot of astronauts. You couldn’t have too many astronauts.) 

Clint peered over at Bucky’s. Bucky had gotten a bunch of wild animals. He was touching each one with a single finger. “We can build an outerspace zoo!” 

Bucky shook his head. “My ‘nimals don’t have helmets,” He said, so quiet only Daddy and Clint could hear, probably. 

Clint frowned. That  _ was _ a problem. He looked up at Daddy who smiled at him and reassured, “We can make some.” Daddy was really good at making things, so that was okay. 

Next were some really cool science kits from Bruce (Daddy had said, “You’re just trying to make my life more difficult, aren’t you” which Clint didn’t really get. Bruce had laughed though) and then a stuffed hawk for Clint and a stuffed penguin for Bucky from Sam. Then there were some awesome glass balls from Thor that turned the whole room different colors (Thor said you could put them in bath water too and that made Clint want to take a bath right away). 

Then it was Phil’s turn. Clint wasn’t sure what Phil would give him, but there were butterflies in his stomach so he let Bucky open first. Bucky got some footy pajamas that looked sort of like Clint’s favorite puppy ones, but made to look like a kitty instead. Daddy made a funny sound, almost like he was gonna cry. 

Clint looked up at him, “Daddy?”

“M’okay, lovebug. I’m just happy, is all. Really happy.” Clint nodded. Clint was happy too, so that was okay. Clint didn’t usually cry when he was happy, but Daddy did pretty silly things sometimes. 

Clint’s present from Phil was  _ the best ever. _ It was a pair of footy pajamas that made him look like an astronaut. A real, live astronaut. 

Clint couldn’t talk he was so excited, so he just gave Phil the biggest hug he could, which made Phil smile and make a noise like Daddy had. 

“Daddy, I wanna put them on! Right now, can I? Can I right now?” Clint went to pull up his t-shirt, but Daddy stopped him. 

“After we open Tasha’s presents we can go change in the bathroom.” Daddy said. 

“Wanna now!” Clint whined, pulling on his t-shirt again. Daddy held it firmly in place and stood up, putting Bucky on the floor. 

“Clint, let’s open Tasha’s presents, okay?” He said, softly this time. But Clint didn’t want to. He felt like screaming and yelling and crying, just cause. Daddy was being mean, Clint wanted to put his pjs on right now, and, a big yawn broke his train of thought and distracted him. He blinked up at Daddy who was giving him a special Daddy look that said  _ it’s okay you’re feeling lots of things but that’s okay.  _

Clint blinked again. This time when Daddy sat down, Clint got to sit on his lap, so that was okay. Bucky opened first again. He was really, really quiet when he opened it. It was a set of russian nesting dolls, carved and painted to look like different animals. They were really pretty, but Clint didn’t know why Bucky was so quiet and trembly. Daddy was rubbing Bucky’s back. 

He said, “Natasha, they’re beautiful. Really stunning.” Daddy didn’t even have to prompt Bucky. 

Bucky’s voice was quiet, like it always was, but a little older, “Thank you, Natalia.”

Clint didn’t know why Bucky was calling Natasha by the wrong name. He opened his mouth to ask, but Daddy shushed him.

“You’re welcome, Yasha.” Natasha’s voice was also a little different, open and soft and a little bit kind. Bucky burrowed into Daddy’s side and Daddy rocked him back and forth gently. He was smiling at Natasha, all blurry around the edges like he got when he was really proud of Bucky or Clint. 

Clint’s present from Natasha was a book. It looked and smelled old, and the pages were yellowed around the edges. It was written in Russian, which Clint couldn’t read so he looked up at Daddy for help. 

“It’s a Russian folk tale,” Daddy started. He opened the cover and his eyes got real wide and he looked up at Natasha. 

“It was mine,” Natasha said. “When I was a child. I want him -” She turned to Clint, and her eyes were staring right at him. Clint sat up a little. He loved Natasha. She had been- his only friend for a really long time, and then he got broken and little and the team started and things had been different. He had been afraid that she’d find out and think he was gross. And when she had found out, only a couple of days ago and not said anything. He thought that was it. “I want you to have it, little hawk.”

Clint got up and folded Natasha into a big hug. He tried to make it like one of Daddy’s hugs, which made him feel so safe and loved, but he still felt little, so he ended up sort of in Natasha’s lap and crying a little. 

Natasha stroked his hair. 

“I love you,” she said. She’d never said that to him before. 

“Love you.” He whispered back. He blinked back more tears. His eyes were all burny but he just wanted to stay right here and know that Natasha loved him, for just a little bit. 


	2. Chapter 2

Clint woke up later, still little. At first he wasn’t sure where he was. The only places he’d woken up little were his room and Daddy’s room and when they went on vacations. 

“Daddy?” He whimpered, sitting up. It took a second, but he realized he was still on the common floor and lying on the couch. Bucky was on the other side of the couch, still asleep and sucking on his pacifier. They must have fallen asleep after presents, Clint didn’t know. But it was scary to wake up here and he wanted Daddy. “Daddy?” He called again, a little louder. Bucky started to stir too and Bucky always needed Daddy right away. 

Luckily Daddy came down the stairs from the kitchen area just then. He came straight to Clint’s side and gathered him up in a hug. Clint snuggled in. Good. That was better. Daddy sat down on the couch by Bucky. He and Clint watched as Bucky slowly woke up. He started crying when he did, but Daddy swooped him up too before he could get too loud. For a couple minutes, they just sat there. Clint sorta knew that his other friends were a little up and to the side and could see him. But it didn’t feel like they could see him. It felt like it always felt when he woke up with Daddy and Bucky, safe and warm and just the three of them. 

Well it did until Daddy patted his bum and Clint’s pull up went squish. Clint couldn’t help it and he started to cry. Daddy shushed him and picked him and Bucky up to carry them into the bathroom. He sat on the floor with them, still quiet, and he gave Bucky a paci and Clint his blankie. But Clint was still sad. He’d peed himself. In front of all his friends. Again. 

“It’s okay, lovebug. Shh. You were asleep, bud. It’s okay.”

Clint felt too tired and sad to talk. He put his thumb in his mouth and sucked it, trying to make the tears go away. Bucky was crying too, muffled around his paci. 

“Was it scary to wake up in a new place?” Daddy asked. Clint nodded. It felt very scary and he hadn’t been sure Daddy was gonna come and what if he’d had to be big to take care of Bucky?

“I’m sorry, babies. I shouldn’t have done that without warning you. You both fell asleep when we read Tasha’s book. Our friends wanted me to stay and talk for a little bit. I thought maybe you could sleep on the couch for a while. I didn’t mean for you to wake up alone. I lost track of time.”

Daddy always said when he’d made a mistake. Clint liked that. Because if someone as awesome as Daddy could make mistakes, so could he. And he could still be good, just like Daddy. 

Daddy cuddled and rocked them for a long time, until they were both all out of tears. He carefully laid them down next to each other, which was kinda squishy, but it meant Clint could put his head on Bucky’s shoulder and hold his hand. Daddy looked kinda funny, squished up by the potty trying to get their pants off and it made Clint giggle. 

“You laughing at  Daddy, you silly boy?” Daddy asked, grinning. Clint nodded. Bucky giggled too. “You too Buckaroo?! What am I going to do with such silly boys?” 

Daddy tickled them, of course. Because that’s always what he did when Clint and Bucky were being silly. Daddy said that he had to tickle all the sillies out of them. 

Once Clint and Bucky had laughed their sillies away into happies, Daddy changed their pull ups. Clint sort of wanted to cry again, but there were too many happies from the tickles so he didn’t. Daddy offered both of them their new pjs (which Clint had forgotten about) and they were still probably the coolest thing ever. As soon as Clint had them on he ran out to the living room and up the stairs to show Phil. 

“Phil!” He announced, loudly. “Look!” Everybody turned around to look. Which oh. Now every was looking at him and he felt kinda shy and what if his pjs weren’t all the way zipped or…

“I see! Very cool!” Phil said, sounding kinda funny, like maybe he was confused at how silly Clint was. Daddy used to sound that way, a really long time ago, when he’d just started being Clint’s daddy. Clint blushed, because everyone was still looking at him. He turned to look for Daddy, who was coming up the stairs with Bucky. Bucky still had his paci and looked kind of sleepy. 

“How was your nap?” Bruce asked Clint. Clint blushed some more, because what if he knew and he was asking and he was probably gonna say something and could they all see his pull up under these pjs? Daddy laid a hand on his neck and gave him a little squeeze. Daddy would take care of it. 

“Uhm, good.” Clint said, staring down at his feet now. 

“You guys were asleep for a long time!” Sam said. They were? Clint looked around for a clock, but the numbers were kinda jumbled so he just looked at Daddy. 

“Three hours,” Daddy said, sitting down with Bucky in his lap. Clint hurried over next to him and got up on his seat. “I think you were tuckered out by all the excitement this morning, huh?”

“Yuhuh,” Clint said, finding his milk from earlier and taking a sip. It was kinda warm, but that was okay. “Snack, Daddy?” 

“Oh.” Daddy said, sounding a little surprised, which was funny, cause Daddy usually knew exactly what they were gonna have for snack. “I forgot to plan anything. And you’re probably hungry enough for lunch, huh?”

Clint nodded eagerly. He was hungry. He’d only eaten three waffles and then they’d played and then they’d fallen asleep before eating any lunch. They usually ate lunch first. The table had been cleared of all the breakfast things, which was kinda sad cause then he could have had more waffles but Daddy probably wouldn’t let him now. 

“What can I get for them?” Pepper offered, standing up and smiling down at them all. 

“Clint,” Daddy asked, “What would you like?”

Clint didn’t know. Daddy made all sorts of things that no one else could, and that’s usually what they ate when Clint was little but he didn’t want to ask for something that Pepper didn’t know how to make or that would take a long time. He stuck one of his fingers in mouth. “Dunno.”

“How ‘bout grilled cheese? With tomatoes?” Daddy suggested, rubbing Clint’s back. Clint leaned into the touch. 

“And pesto?” He asked, because that was how Daddy usually made it and it wouldn’t be the same otherwise. 

“I don’t know if we have pesto here, bud…” Daddy trailed off. 

“We do,” Said Tony. “We got a side order of it on movie night. It’s Pepper’s favorite. Also, that sandwich sounds amazing, so me too?” 

Pepper chuckled. “Alright, how many am I cooking for?”

Everybody raised their hands, which. Daddy did always have the best idea for food. And for most things, really.

Pepper got specific orders from everyone and Bruce and Sam got up to help

“Did you have fun this morning?” Natasha asked in that soft voice from before. Clint nodded around his sippy cup. “Was it like what you do, just with Steve and Yasha?”

Yasha was Natasha’s special name for Bucky, Clint remembered. 

“Nuhuh.”

“What was different?”

Clint thought. He couldn’t really look at Natasha cause he was feeling shy, but he wanted her to know that he liked that she was talking to him when he was little. “Louder.”

Natasha chuckled which made Clint’s tummy feel all happy, so he glanced up at her and smiled a little bit. Phil was watching them close, but that was okay because Phil loved Clint (even little Clint) and Natasha. 

“And we play more pretend stuff,” Clint said. “Not just buildin things. And we do arts and crafts, cause Daddy’s really good at comin up with stuff. And now that everyone knows he can put all our art up. He said so.”

“Oh?” Natasha was looking at Daddy now, so Clint took a break from talking to drink some more milk.

“It’s nice that everything is all out in the open now. I hated having to put all their art away instead of putting it up on the walls. Of course, Clint’s art is likely to end up on walls anyway.” Daddy gave him tickly fingers and Clint giggled. 

“Only when we fingerpaint, Daddy!” Clint said. 

“Nuh,” Bucky said, really quiet so Clint sort of had to lean over to hear him, “Glitter.”

Clint pouted but Daddy laughed. 

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at Daddy instead of asking a real question. Daddy always made Clint use his words, but he didn’t make Tasha. 

“Bucky pointed out that Clint is also quite bad at keeping glitter off things. A couple weeks ago he dumped a whole thing of glitter over Bucky’s head. I’m still picking glitter off his scalp.”

Clint blushed as everybody laughed. He felt like they were laughing at him. He wanted his blankie, all of a sudden. Clint hid his face in his hands. Daddy rubbed his back all gentle and reassuring. 

“Of course, not to be out done, Bucky dumped glitter over Clint’s head.” Everyone laughed harder. Oh, well maybe it was just a silly story. It had been pretty silly. Daddy had made a very funny face. 

“That explains why I’ve been finding glitter on our pillowcases.” Phil said, voice all dry like when he was being grown up silly. Everybody laughed even harder. Clint peeked his face out again and stopped hiding. 

“Sorry, Phil.” Daddy said, after the laughs got quieter. “I should have warned you about that one.”

“Quite.” For some reason that made the grown ups laugh again. Then Pepper put a sandwich down in front of Clint. It looked really yummy. Not as good as when Daddy made it, of course, but almost as good. 

“It’s hot,” Pepper said as Clint reached for it. Oh, that was sad. Clint pouted at his sandwich. “Would you like me to blow on it?” Pepper asked. Clint blinked up at her. Only Daddy had ever offered to blow his food for him. He nodded, a little shy. Pepper didn’t blow as hard as Daddy, but she did a good job too. His sandwich was ready to eat by the time Bruce was putting four sandwiches down in front of Bucky. Bucky looked excited and he handed Daddy his paci right away, sitting up while Daddy cut his sandwiches into bite sized pieces. Bucky needed that cause he only had one hand to hold a sandwich with, but Clint had two, so he could eat it like a grown up. 

“Can I have a bite?” Daddy asked. 

“Nuh!” Clint said around his sandwich. He’d only fallen for that trick once. Daddy could eat half a sandwich in one bite. 

“You don’t share with your Daddy?” Tony asked, leaning in. 

“Nuhuh. He takes big bites and then there’s none left!” Clint explained. 

Tony made a funny tsking noise at Daddy and said, “Eating your children’s food? Now that’s not very good parenting, Cap.” 

Remembering what Daddy had said about being scared about his friends think he was a a bad Daddy, Clint hollered, “He’s the best Daddy! Cause when I say no, he stops!”

The room fell very quiet. Clint sat back quick, scared he’d said something wrong. He looked over at Daddy with wide eyes. Daddy put a big arm around and cuddled him close. 

“Did someone not stop when you said no?” Natasha asked, voice kinda scary now. Clint tried not to whimper and hid his face in Daddy’s side. All the grown ups had still serious faces on, and he didn’t like that. He really didn’t. Daddy picked him up into his lap, which, good, that felt a lot safer. Clint didn’t know what to do about Natasha’s question, because no one had ever stopped when he said no before Phil. And Daddy. So he just pushed as close to Daddy as he could. 

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Daddy said, which didn’t make sense, what were they thinking? How could Daddy know? Was Daddy a psychic now? That would make a lot of sense. Daddy always knew what he was thinking. “He’s had boundaries broken, but not  _ that  _ one. He’s just...still getting used to the idea that he lives with people who will always respect his boundaries, no matter what.”

Boundaries, Clint remembered, were what Daddy called his _nos_ \- things he didn’t like. Daddy and he had special nos for when he was little and different nos for when he was big. Daddy had nos for when he would talk to Phil about Clint, too. Clint guessed that there were probably new nos for talking to everybody else about little Clint too.

“Oh.” Natasha said all soft again. 

“I think -” Daddy said, voice kinda soft too, like he wasn’t sure about what he was going to say, “that a lot of us are still getting used to that.”

“Yes,” Said Natasha, “I think you are right.”

“Daddy’s always right,” Clint said, half into Daddy’s ribs and half to Natasha. Natasha laughed. 

“Is he, now?”

“Yeah!” Said Clint, sitting up a little more, but still in Daddy’s lap and snuggled close to Daddy and Bucky. 

“You must be a pretty lucky little hawk, then.”

Clint nodded, hard. He was the  _ luckiest. _

*

It was Monday morning, so Clint was a little surprised to see Steve standing in front of the stove when he got off the elevator, still blinking himself awake, Phil a step behind him. 

“Steve?” He asked. Steve turned and smiled, big and bright, so wow he must have had a good morning. 

“Bucky suggested that I have breakfast with you guys while he played with Thor.”

Which, wow. Good for Bucky. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, looking really relaxed. Bucky must have been having a really good day. He would see later, he supposed, plopping down at the kitchen table and pulling the coffee pot and a mug closer. 

“And you decided to celebrate your freedom by cooking us breakfast?” Tony asked, eyebrow raised. “Cap, you really need to get a life.” Steve just shrugged, all relaxed and soft around the edges, because Steve was weird and he really liked taking care of people - not just Clint and Bucky, but the whole team. Clint knew that, even if he didn’t really understand it because it sounded like a lot of work, and a lot of people relying on you, and Clint would definitely fuck up big time. 

“Was he, uhm, little?” Clint asked, not sure he wanted to bring it up, with the others all sitting there. But Bucky usually wasn’t (or at least, not all the way) with Thor, because he was needy. Da- Steve called it separation anxiety. Sometimes big Bucky could handle that better. And the team knew, and if Clint was worried about his brother he could just ask, he didn’t need to hide it anymore. Probably, anyway. 

Steve waggled his hand in the air as if to say  _ sorta,  _ “He and Thor were working on a rather ambitious train track for you guys to play with later.”

_ Steve. _ Seriously, Steve you couldn’t just bring up little Clint and playing today in front of everybody, that was embarrassing, they didn’t need to know that, they really didn’t, Steve. 

“Oh, do you guys play today?” Tony asked, with his fake casual voice on, like he was angling for something, and Clint didn’t want him to angling for anything,  _ thank you very much, you keep your nose out my fucking life, Tony Stark.  _

Steve looked over at Clint, as if to get his permission, which too late Steve, you go right the fuck ahead. 

“Yes, we do.” Steve said, all calm, because he wasn’t just talking about the most private thing in his life, was he. 

“How often do you guys play?” Bruce asked. He sounded polite and genuinely interested, but this was all going to come back to to bite Clint in the ass, he knew it. 

_ “Steve _ .”  He hissed. 

“Do you want me not to talk about it?” Steve asked, all even and calm like.

Clint grumbled under his breath. It was impossible to argue with Steve when he used that tone because he just sounded so damn reasonable so arguing just made you seem like an asshole. If he’d been little, Steve would have said ‘use your words’ but he managed to say that just by saying “Clint.”

Which, not fair. Really. 

“No, no, it’s fine. Let’s just embarrass Clint over fucking breakfast. Aren’t there any sacred kitchens left?” Steve frowned at him a little. Clint frowned back. He hated kitchen talks. He really did, and it wasn’t that he was opposed to Steve talking about him being little, but did he have to do it when he was right there? 

“We can move to the living room…” Bruce said, sounding kinda confused. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Clint muttered, giving up. 

“We don’t have to know, either.” Sam said. 

“We might as well be honest and open,” Steve said, using that same damnably reasonable voice, “Now that we can be.”

Openness and sharing, yes okay Steve, he got it, we don’t have to hide, but what if he wanted to fucking hide, did you ever think of that, that this isn’t something that he wanted to spend a whole lot of time talking about, because it was weird and he was broken?

“Fine, fine, yes go on, talk about Clint. Let’s just pretend I’m not here, okay?” 

Steve gave him one of those looks, the ones that were all  _ I love you and this is going to be okay and you’re okay and I think you’re awesome, bud, so just trust me.  _ Clint had no resistance to those looks, so he just grabbed the first bacon and toast Steve set down on the table and set about making his mouth and eyes very busy. 

“At the moment Clint and I average about three times per week. But that’s more than it used to be.Clint and I have always been pretty consistent, but we were obviously disrupted when Bucky came back.”

“That must have been very difficult,” Natasha said, looking over at Clint with one of those careful looks that meant she was seeing too much. Everyone was seeing too much, as far as Clint was concerned, because this was the tiny secret place in him and now it sort of belonged to everyone. How did that happen?  

“Yeah, guesso.” He muttered around his bacon sandwich.

“And before, how often did you play then?” Bruce asked. 

“Usually around once a week,” Steve said.

“Why the increase?” Tony asked, this time. 

“At first, to make up for the time when we couldn’t. But once Bucky joined us the frequent play has really helped him, though frequent and consistent play has always been helpful for Clint too.”

_ No. _ Don’t say shit like that Steve, don’t make them see how much this mattered. Don’t let them know. 

“How does it help you?” Natasha asked, eyes narrowed. Steve looked over at him, asking for permission. Clint didn’t want to give it, he really didn’t. Steve wasn’t trying to convince him now, just giving him a steady look, a promise that he’d be there and help Clint and that it was okay. It was all a little much to handle. Clint tucked his limbs in close and thought. 

Phil hadn’t been okay with it until after Steve had explained everything. He’d been angry and weirded out and then Steve (and Clint) had explained, and Phil had learned to be okay with it. And Steve wouldn’t say as much as they had said to Phil. Steve always knew the right words and how much to say. So he nodded. This was one more thing that Steve could hold for him.

“Clint has a lot of trauma from the incident with Loki, some of it quite permanent. We’ve found that the play helps a great deal with this.” Clint squirmed, folding tight, making himself small and unseeable. 

“What trauma? Permanent?” Natasha demanded, eyes steely and cold and flicking between Clint and Steve. Steve paused a moment (always giving Clint a chance to take over, which, uhm, no, thank Steve, you could handle this shit show, thanks all the same) before continuing. 

“I won’t discuss it in detail - it’s on Clint’s assessment,” which was code now, for back off, I’ve got this, you’ll know if it’s anything really bad, but just trust me and remember that you have things that you want kept private too, “But Loki’s mind control seems to have some permanent effects  on parts of Clint’s emotional functioning and ability to handle stress.”

Natasha practically snarled, “I’m going to need more than that. You can’t just say his functioning is affected and not say how.” Clint tried to make himself even smaller, hoping that maybe they would just forget this whole conversation and that Clint even existed. This was just, really a lot. And so private. And people were seeing  _ so much _ . 

“Natasha,” Steve said in his Captain voice, “You’re well aware of how assessments and issues of privacy function on this team. Clint is allowed to reveal and keep private what he wants, as are you and every member of this team.”

Shit. Yep, Natasha’s eyes flung to him, demanding answers. Clint swallowed, throat tight. He’d have to say something. His eyes went to Steve’s, who looked at him, steady and still, promising that it would be okay and that he would back him up, no matter what, so, okay, “Some of it is, uhm, the stuff that used to happen on missions, right after.” Clint’s still not allowed to do assassinations or interrogations, and he can only do solo ops for a week and under, but that’s okay. It’s better than he was a year ago. “The, ehm, the panic. And eating issues.” The team knew this part. Steve had to say something when Clint was benched, after all. They weren’t just gonna let it be. “I can’t...separate from what I feel so good, anymore either. Uhm, and stimulus sensitivity, think it’s called,” He looked to Steve, a desperate cry for help, all used up on explaining. Steve grabbed his hand and squeezed tight. Underneath the table, Phil (who knew most, if not all, of the truth) had laid a hand on his knee. _They both love me_ , Clint reminded himself.  

“Yes,” Steve affirms. “Clint, in particular, has increased sensitivity to light and sound stimulus of certain types. Mostly,” Steve said, “He has a decreased ability to handle stress. One way that we manage that is through regular ageplay.”

Natasha sat back, face still steely and grim. She was not satisfied, Clint could tell, but she respected Steve too much to go around his rules and find out all the answers she wanted. 

“We’ve done intensive scans, examinations, and testing.” Steve said to the team at large, all of them a little quieter and more serious than they usually were. “And he’s fine. Really. I checked - there is no physical damage from Loki.”

Steve didn’t say everything, of course. But that was good. Clint didn’t need them to know everything. And really didn’t want them to know some of it. 

“I have access to the best doctors in the world,” Tony said, “We can get you better than whatever shit you had at SHIELD, I’m sure with the right…” His voice was fast and he was trying to sound casual, but failing. And wow, it was nice to know Tony cared so much. 

“Tony,” Steve interrupted firmly. “There’s nothing to be fixed. Clint is changed, not broken.”

The words shivered down Clint’s spine,  _ changed not broken, not broken, not broken, not. _ He knew that Steve thought that, of course, but he’d never said it in quite those words, not really. 

“I believe that Clint has changed for the better from his experience,” Phil said smoothly. And wow, okay, Clint didn’t know how to react that because how could Phil possibly think that with the bedwetting and the night terrors and the way that Phil couldn’t do that thing where he just lightly trailed his fingers all over Clint’s body that used to drive him wild, but now drove him to a corner, yelling for Steve? How could Phil possibly think he was changed for the better. “He is gentler, kinder, more empathetic, and wildly more self-aware, which makes him both a better agent and a better man.”

Which, okay, Clint can no longer handle that. He really can’t. He kind of wanted to cry. Or laugh. Or hug Phil. Or Steve. Or maybe both of them, because they thought Clint was better, they thought Clint was good, they loved him, they both loved him so much that Clint was kind of shaking with it, right then. Because, wow. Just. 

“Clint?” Natasha’s voice was suspicious. Which yes, Clint was trying to choke back tears, okay. Give him a minute to just process because. Yeah. 

“M’good.” He mumbled. “I - it’s hard. To share this.”

“Yes, it must be,” Bruce said softly. Clint looked up. His team looked - accepting. Warm. Okay, not shocked or grossed out or anything else. Phil’s eyes were soft. Maybe proud? And Steve was looking at him like he was everything good, the way that Steve’s hugs sometimes made him feel, perfect and whole and okay and not fucked up or a fuck up, not someone who let people down but someone worth all the love and trust Steve could give (which was a lot). 

“It’s, uh, good.” Tony said, sounding profoundly more awkward than he usually did. “I mean - the spaceship and the pirate ship. It was - good, to design for fun again.”

Which, uhm. Was Tony saying he liked that Clint was little, like actively liked it instead of just being okay with it because Steve asked? 

“Yes,” Bruce agreed. “It was relaxing. And,” He paused a moment, glancing between Clint and Steve, and Clint braced himself, “well, little you really is quite adorable.”

_...wait, what? _

“Wha?” Clint said, eyes wide. Because. Yes, Phil had said that he loved little Clint, but that wasn’t-. Only Steve thought Clint was cute, like, the way little kids were cute. 

“Oh yeah!” Tony sat up, agreeing. “Like with those astronaut pjs Phil got you? Seriously. Too fucking cute for words.”

“And when you fell asleep on the couch,” Natasha said, calmer. “Very precious.”

It felt like the whole world had turned upside down, seriously, what was he supposed to do with this? This was way too fucking much. 

“Clint?” Steve said, all gentle and right by his side and putting his hand on his shoulder and…

Clint looked up at Steve, who smiled down at him. Clint leaned into the touch. Steve was always right. It should have been more aggravating than it was. Mostly he was just really glad he’d picked Steve as his Daddy, because Steve made things work with Phil and with Bucky and now, with his team. 

It was going to be okay. Somehow, all of this was going to be okay. 

  
_ fin. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading, kudoing, and commenting! I didn't want to make you guys wait more than a week for the rest of the story, so here it is!   
> Also, quick question ~ judging by kudos, it seems like Wednesday was a better posting day for many. Would you prefer I update Wednesdays or Fridays, fine readers?

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](https://imdefinitelyyourcat.tumblr.com/) where I answer asks and write ficlets and reblog feelings.


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